


A Story Told In White Light

by blue000jay



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Tears, lol its kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7556992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue000jay/pseuds/blue000jay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your memory won't ever fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Story Told In White Light

What are you doing here?

 

….everything was quiet. You remember quiet, but you also remember noise. Lots of noise, shouting, crying….screaming. You had screamed. You can remember that.

 

Fire. There had been fire as well. Red, red, red and then blue. Green and yellow and blue and red. You remember the colors. All of them. And how your color….it was hated. You were hated.

 

Next you remembered the pain.

 

A twang of string then an aching, harsh angry pain in your side, it left you struggling to breathe, barely able to form words. Your throat throbbed, raw from screaming and yelling and trying to talk. Trying to make them see. It hadn’t worked. You had promised someone that it would work and you would make them understand. You had...you had………

 

You had failed.

 

That hurt more than any physical pain you can remember. You had seen something, something good, something amazing even, and tried to make it true.

 

You failed.

 

You remember being young.

 

A big, warm body next to you. Being curled up into the crook of their body and sharing warmth in the coldest of nights. Crying because you fell, your knee hurts and a soft hand to ease it. A bright smile and the softest, fluffiest hair. You loved that hair. It made you happy. It was constant. You had moved so much, place to place. You didn’t understand why. You were too young.

 

You remember growing.

 

Learning. Learning words and how to write and count and the satisfaction of understanding. You remember when the nightmares started. Then the visions. It made you long for such a place. Where everyone was free, and happy. You told her about them. She was your mother. She understood. She taught you to do what you thought was right.

 

You remember beginning.

 

The start of everything. Stuttered words. Unsure answers to cruel questions. Narrow escapes and not-so-accidental beatings. Hiding who you were.

 

You remember your first friend.

 

She had followed you from your meeting. She quoted yourself back to you, what a memory she had, then asked shyly if you thought it was true. You told her you had no doubt. She began to travel with you and suddenly you had a friend, someone to talk and play with. You were still young. You grew with her and realized something, as she smiled and laughed at you and recorded every single thing you said about your cause. You loved her. She loved you too. Neither of you had the words to describe your love, but it didn’t matter to you. She was yours. You were hers.

 

You remember your second friend.

 

You were older and had learned much. You commandeer-, well, you found a ship. He was inside, sparking and struggling and you could see how tired he was. You calmed him down. He swore at you. You explained your cause. He listened. She wrote down both of your words as you chatted. He agreed to come. You broke him out. He was your best friend, he listened to you and you to him and you understood when he flipped or switched on you and kissed him when he needed it. You were his lifeline, his grounding, and him yours.

 

You remember the words and nights spent in front of them, hundreds of thousands you hoped to make see the truth and what was right and what was wrong in this world. You can see all of their faces now - hopeful, angry, confused, frustrated, righteous. 

 

You remember the shouts and taunts and jeers and the fear. You remember the hope and you’re watching it, watching a journey that seems so familiar. Only at the end do you realize and know it is yours.

 

You had made a simple mistake.

 

It led to chains, dungeons. Pain and fear. You watched as everything you had built fell around you like crumbling stone. The irons around your wrists had been so hot, and your blood so red against the sky. The tears, green and yellow, made you feel something you had almost never felt. A twinge. Then the pain of the arrow and the indifference and bloodthirstiness and ignorance and cowardice of the crowd made the twinge grow.

 

You shouted. You screamed at them. They had made you angry and they would pay. But you couldn’t do anything as your vision faded and then the sounds left you and you arrived….here.

 

In the empty white.

 

In time, the empty white would grow. It would shape into a field of flowers and a sky that never turned to sunset with a sun that didn’t burn your skin. It reminded you of a place you had once seen but cannot recall more than the flowers you had picked with her. You watch them.

 

You watch your caretaker, your mother, the Dolorosa grow faded as she watches you die and then almost emotionless as she watched everything else. You watch as she’s sold. You watch with amusement as she falls in love. You watch with pain and anger as someone sneaks up on her, while she is watching the stars on board a ship that she had begun to call home.

 

Then she’s next to you and you’re both crying and hugging. You shush her after a few minutes, and you both continue to watch.

 

You watch your friend, your lover, the Disciple sob as she clutches what remains to her chest and then stare wide eyed and pleading at a shaky executioner. You watch as he whispers for her to run and she does, she flies so fast and far. She lives alone and she hates it. You want to comfort her, but you just watch. She writes on the walls and you can see her pain and as she grows less and less lucid.

 

You greet her with a kiss made of longing and passion and pure love.

 

They watch with you for him.

 

You watch your best friend, your companion, the Psiioniic. He’s taken away and pushed. Pushed so hard and he’s tired all the time and he gives up hope, but she makes him live, forces his body to keep working long after it should have wilted and died. In retaliation, he keeps his snark the best he can. He swears at her, cusses her out and snarks and makes bad jokes and annoys her and does anything she asks for in the most inefficient way possible without calling attention. It’s not like she would kill him, he’s too important to her. So he fights back and it makes you smile.

 

Then, hundreds of sweeps later, something large happens. You don’t bother to look. You greet him with a bone-crushing hug and a smile and asked him what took so long. He punches your arm and you all hug again, laughing and crying.

 

The meadow you’re in becomes clearer.

 

Your heart is filled with happiness as you take their hands and pull them forward.

 

Maybe, if you look hard enough, you can find the world you saw when you were young.

 

You have an eternity to try and you are determined.

  
You haven’t failed just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> So I was having feels about these guys.


End file.
